The Indianapolis times. [volume], October 10, 1930, Home Edition, Second Section, Page PAGE 18, Image 18

About The Indianapolis times. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1922-1965

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PAGE 18
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BEGIN HEBE TODAY _
Adventure enters the life of CELIA
MITCHELL, 17, when she leerns the
father she has supposed dead Is alive
and wealthy. She leaves her unpre
tentious home In Baltimore for a home
tn New York with her father, JOHN
MITCHELL, and her aristocratic trand
m MARGARET ROGERS, her mother,
divorced Mitchell and remarried and Is
now- a widow. BARNEY SHIELDS,
young newspaper photographer, la In
love with the girl and before leaving
Baltimore. Celia promised to be loyal
to his love. She is lonely in her new
h< MHcheU asks EVELYN PARSONS,
beautiful widow, to Introduce the girl
to voung people. Mrs. Parsona considers
Celia a means to win Mitchell s affec
tions and agrees. She invites the grl
to her Long Island home for a week
en TOD JORDAN, fascinating but with a
dubious reputation. Is attentive to Ce
lia end Mrs. Parsons encourages the
match. When the other guests leave
Celia continues her visit.
LISI DUNCAN. socially prominent, in
•Htea her to attend a swimming Party,
oita. narrowlv escapee drowning •na is
tsscufd bv Jordan. Her (ithw htrs of
the affair and insists the fclrl must r
tU?hehiam* evening Jordan calls and In
r °^h l e M r C etsrn"%o New C Yo4 nest day
“WoS Wm' story
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
•‘\\THO is it?” Celia demanded
W eagerly. She held the French
telephone close to her ear.
The “gentleman” at the other end
of the line was a butler, explaining
that Miss Lisi Duncan wished to
speak to Miss Mitchell. A moment
later Celia heard List's gay voice.
“’’’’“Tt you. Celia?” she asked,
jiyn told me you’d gone home.
I telephoned her a few minute# ago.
Listen, how’re you feeling today?”
“Oh, I’m all rightl" Surely. Celia
thought to herself, she must have
said that a thousand times in the
last twenty-four hours.
“Fine! Honey, I want you to have
lunch with me tomorrow. I’m go
ing to drive in and I’ll pick you up
about 1:30. That O. K.?”
Celia thought it would be. It
cheered her immensely to think Lisi
wanted to be friendly. She prom
ised to be ready.
“That's settled then. By-by,
honeyi”
After Celia put down the tele
phone she wondered If her grand
mother could object. It would be
horrible to have to call off the en
gagement. She decided to wait un
til her father arrived home before
mentioning the luncheon party.
He came shortly after 4, asking
immediately for his daughter. The
girl was reading.
“Home again!” Mitchell called as
he entered the library. “Well. Celia,
let's hear all about this casualty
of yours.”
“Oh. father, I can't understand
how it happened. One minute I
was swimming along and the next
wave came over me *nd I thought
I was sinking ”
Mitchell sat down beside her,
asked questions. He wanted to
know the name of the young man
who had saved her. Celia, with
trembling eagerness, told him. She
explained she had met Jordan at
Evelyn Parsons’.
“Oh. yes? Well, I wouldn’t stand
on a little point of atiquette if 2
were drowning!” he said dryly.
Celia laughed. She explained she
wasnt referring to social proprie
ties. but thought Mitchell might re
member seeing Jordan.
Her father shook his head.
“Cant say I do,” he said. Then
he wrote down the name. “Well—
I’ll took after this young man ”
“But I’m sure he wouldn’t—l
mean, I don’t think he’d accept
money or anything like that!” she
protested.
Mitchell put the memorandum
book back into his pocket.
“Never mind about that,” he
said. “Celia, I had a pretty uncom
fortable half-hour last night before
I knew you wi.'re safe.” ,
There was emotion in his voice
that surprised the girl. Mitchell
put out a hand and took Celia’s, and
for a moment there was under
standing silence between them.
* m m
IMUST run upstairs and dress.”
the girl said, rising. She was
afraid to show how deeply she had
been touched. Before she reached
the door Celia remembered Lisi
and the luncheon engagement. She
told her fatl er ..bout it. -
“That’s all right," he said. “I
want you to have plenty of young
friends. I’ll speak to your grand
mother”
She thanked him and went on
out of the room.
There was a letter from Celia’s
mother next morning. It was not
the first the girl had received
from Mrs. Rogers since arriving in
New York, but coming at this par
ticular time, its effect was pro
found.
Celia was at her dressing table
lastly polishing he- nails when
Martha knocked on the door and
gave her the letter.
The girl greeted the familiar
handwriting with delight. Then
she ran to the chaise longue, sank
down and tore open the envelope.
“My darling child,” was the sal
utation. Celia read on quickly.
There was little news. Mrs. Rog
ers wrote that she was feeling well
and very busy. It was the vaca
tion season and two of the fitters
at Margot’s were away.
Os course it was the slack season,
but still she and Tillie Dennison
had their hands full. It had been
very warm, but today they were
having a cool spell.
Margaret Rogers said that Bar
ney had come to see her. He was
working hard. The people next
door in the apartment had anew
radio.
There was nothing of importance
in the letter, but Celia read it all
eagerly. This was news from home.
“I hope you are very happy with
your new friends,” the last para
graph read, “but, remember, above
all else, to take care of yourself.
Write soon. Oh, my darling, how
I love you. Your Mother.”
After the girl had finished read
ing it she sat for a long time look
ing down at the letter. It brought
back sharply everything in the life
she had left. Mother, Barney—she
saw them through different eyes.
She was glad she had written
both of them Monday. She should
have done so earlier. Somehow,
there seemed little time to write.
There was so much else to do. Her
precious mother! Celia thought of
her mother going to work, bending
over her sewing through hot days.
Was she really well?
A wave of revulsion swept over
the girl as she thought of Margaret
Rogers’ long toil and privations and
the luxury with which she herself
was surrounded.
Finally she folded the letter and
put it under a pile of lingerie in
a drawer of the dressing table.
Lisi was late. It was nearly 3
o'clock -when she drove up to the
Mitchell home and sounded the
French horn of her coupe,
Celia hurried out of the house to
stop the uproar before it reached
her grandmother’s ears.
“Hullo 1’ Lisi greeted her bright
ly. “Am I late? It’s the precious
traffic. Red lights all the way! I
swear, crossing the bridge ”
She babbled on as Celia stepped
into the car. Then they circled the
square and headed uptown.
List was looking particularly well
in a green and white printed frock
and small green hat that seemed
to minimize her freckles.
“How's my hat?” she demanded.
“It's Kate's and she'd have forty
seven cat fits if she knew I had it.
Have I got it on right?”
Celia said the hat looked very
well.
“We’re going to ” the other
girl said, naming a small fashion
able restaurant. “Dicky ? to meet
us there. It's all right. He know’s
I'm always late.”
“Who's Dicky?” Celia asked.
• m
LISI grinned. “The plot thick
ens,” she said. “Haven’t had
time to explain why I really called
vou yesterday. Dickey’s my Big
Thrill. He’s an actor—oh. a good
one, too! Going to open in a won
derful show next month.
“But you see I cant have him out
at the house or meet him at the
club because of Kate. Every time
a man I like sees Kate they forget
me like that!” List’s fingers snapped.
“She goes after them on purpose.
Kate’s mean as the dickens that
way.
“Ask her little sister if you want
to learn all. I fished up this excuse
of lunching with you so I could get
into town without a row. Anyhow,
I didn’t think you’d mind ”
It was impossible to hold resent
ment against Lisi. Celia was a lit
tle uncomfortable about lunching
with this strange man. but her com
panion waved aside her scrubles.
“Dicky’s a love!” she declared.
“Wait till you see him.”
The man who rose when they
entered the foyer of the restaurant
was not, to Celia’s way of think
ing, “a love.” He was too blond,
too conscious of his regular fea
tures, and too eager to talk about
himself.
A waiter led them to a comer
table which had been reserved. Lisi
fell into eager conversation about
how rehearsals were going on, and
whether Dickey had succeeded in
getting his part enlarged.
He had not. but he was going to
talk to the director that afternoon.
Celia sat back and listened. She
thought the attraction between Lisi
and this fair-haired Dtetjey curious.
I'
—By Williams
A vision of Tod Jordan's dark, good
looks rose in her memory.
“But, Celia!” Lisi turned laughing.
“I forgot to tell you Dickey’s name!
Isn't that a scream? Listen, he's
Richard Brandon Caruthers on the
theater programs. Remember that!
“Last spring Dickey was play
ing in ‘Finders Keepers’ when I met
him. Oh, you should have seen
him ”
“It was a good part,” caruthers
put in. He explained to Celia that
he played juvenile roles and pre
ferred drama, though he had ap
peared in musical comedies.
The luncheon was appetizing.
Celia devoted herself to the
creamed sweetbread and salad and
let the others talk.
It was interesting to hear this
familiar gossip of the stage. Some
how she had expected an actor to
be a more glamorous person than
Richard Brandom Caruthers.
At 3:30 they left the restaurant.
Dicky was to report at the theater
at 4. They all climbed into the
coupe and List drove toward Broad
way.
Celia dared not admit her
first view of that famous thorough
fare. Her father and grandmother
apparently had little interest in the
theater.
9 n
IN tne afternoon sun she thought
the great electric signs looked
hideous and the street had a cheap,
dismal air. It was very hot. Curi
ous-looking men and women passed.
Caruthers left them in front of a
theater, which to Celia was one of
the ugliest.
All the way to Grammercy park
Lisi chattered of the young man's
attractions.
“You know,” she said impulsively.
“I like you, Celia. I knew I could
depend on you. You’re on the level!
Celia replied that she liked Lisi,
too. It was agreed they should meet
again soon Then Lisi departed and
Celia entered the house.
The nexl; day was dreary, but on
Saturday Mrs. Mitchell and Celia
drove to Westchester to attend a
society fair for the benefit of char
ity. It was one of the charities of
which Mrs. Mitchell served as a
board member.
Celia wi\s not interested until she
visited the fortune teller’s tent. Her
grandmother, by an odd quirk of
character, had the greatest faith in
seers.
“Ask her to read your future!”
Mrs. Mitchell urged and the girl
went into the brightly festooned
bower.
She offered her palm to the aged
gypsy.
“Can you see anything there?”
Celia asked as she sat down.
The old woman studied the hand
several moments.
“Sweethearts,” she muttered.
“Two of them. One handsome! I
see
The gypsy’s sharp eyes darted
upward and her voice rose “I see
—Danger!”
(To Be Continued)
Wife Asks SI,OOO Alimony
BEDFORD, Ind., Oct. 10.—Ali
mony of SI,OOO, with support of $lO
a week for a child is asked in a
divorce suit filed here by Mrs. Ethel
M. Monday against Paul L. Monday,
alleging cruelty and nonsupport.
TARZAN AND THE JEWELS OF OPAR
At last Jane summoned courage to undertake
the ordeal of continuing her journey through
the jungle. Descending from the tree, she set
out in a southerly direction, hoping to come by
chance upon a roving band of the Waxiri
huntsmen. The day was half spent when there
broke unexpectedly upon her startled ears the
sound of a rifie shot not far ahead of her. As
she paused to listen, this first shot was followed
by another and another and another. What
could it mean? She dared not advance nearer
to see.
. THE INMANAPO LIS TIMES .
BOOTS AND HER BUDDIES
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CAREER Mg-j — — ,t HiGHTBEf *BLET^
After listening for several minutes she became
convinced that no more than two or three rifles
were engaged in* the fight. As the shots ceased
sne heard two men calling to each other in loud
tones. Then there wbs a long silence which was
finally broken by the stealthy padding of foot
falls on the trail ahead of her. Then a man
appeared in view backing toward her, a rifle
ready in his hands, his eyes directed in care
ful watchfulness along the way that he had
come. Alienst instantly Jane Clayton recog
nized the nun.
—By Martin
It was “M Jules Frecoult,” who so recently
had been a guest in her home. She was on the
point of calling to him in glad relief when she
saw him leap aside and hide beside the trail.
Scarcely had he done so when the figure of a
white-robed Arab crept silently along the trail
in pursuit. From her hiding place Jane Clay
ton could see both men plainly. She recognized
Achmet Zek as the leader of the band cf ruf
fians who had raided her home and made her a
prisoner. And she saw “Frecoult,” the supposed
friend and ally, raise his gun.
OUR BOARDING HOUSE
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—By Edgar Rice Burroughs
He took careful aim at the Arab. Her heart
stood still and every prayer of her soul was di
rected upon a prayer for the accuracy of his aim.
Achmet Zek paused in the middle of the trail.
His tall figure presented a perfect target to the
perfidious assassin. There was a short report, a
puff of smoke and Achmet Zek pitched forward,
face down, upon the ground As Werper stepped
out from the bush he was startled by a glad cry
from above him and was astounded as a woman
dropped from a tree and ran toward him.
_OCT. 10. 1930
—By Ahm
—By Blosser
—By Crane
—-By Small
—By Cowan